


Slow Your Thinking

by an_alternate_world



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Breathplay, M/M, PWP, Praise Kink, dom!Buck, i think i'm gonna have a love/hate relationship with the Discord giving me this idea, it's been a hella long time since i wrote anything this NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21865483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_alternate_world/pseuds/an_alternate_world
Summary: Eddie has the itch to fight, the discomforting unease of needing to release all his negativity again making it difficult to concentrate on the calls. Buck suggests an alternative: surrendering his need for control to Buck for a while.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 61
Kudos: 540





	Slow Your Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> This is all because of the Buddie Discord chats. Thank you for the cheerleading - hopefully it lives up to the hopes!

**Title:** Slow Your Thinking  
 **Author:** an_alternate_world  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Characters/Pairing:** Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz  
 **Word Count:** 9,595  
 **Summary:** Eddie has the itch to fight, the discomforting unease of needing to release all his negativity again making it difficult to concentrate on the calls. Buck suggests an alternative: surrendering his need for control to Buck for a while.  
 **Warnings/Spoilers:** Look at the tags pls.  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with 911, Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe. (They'd have to start a whole new channel for something like _this_ to appear in the show, honestly.)

* * *

Eddie can feel it simmering beneath his skin. It makes his shoulders feel tense and he knows his hands are clenched more often and his eyes keep darting around when they’re on calls, because he _has_ to pay attention to the dangers that he faces every time the alarms ring even when his thoughts are spinning in a thousand directions. Whatever _it_ is he finds difficult to name but he knows what he used to do when he felt _it_ : have a few drinks and throw a lot of punches until someone was on the floor.

But now that Bobby knows, and Buck, and by association or the firehouse gossip grapevine Hen and Chimney have learned about the fighting too, he knows that the outlet he once had is shut off for good. So _it_ has just been building inside him, bubbling away and increasingly surging through his veins until he’s ready to start tearing crumpled doors off shattered cars with his bare hands just for the desperate need to destroy something and feel the bite of the metal in his hands so that the pain breaks through all the hazy vision that _it_ causes.

Bobby notices first after a call, pulling him aside to ask if he’s okay while everyone else heads upstairs to get a belated lunch. Eddie manages a tight smile and a decisive nod even though he was screaming inside with the lies because no, he wasn’t okay.

When Buck asks, the younger man isn’t so easily dissuaded by Eddie’s attempt to insist he’s fine.

“Seriously,” Buck says, following him into the locker room to change after a shift where they’d pulled too many bodies out of cars and buildings, where Buck had stepped into oncoming traffic with no regard for his own life to try to stop impacting the already-mangled wrecks and costing more lives, where Eddie had spent a minute longer in the collapsing bodega than he should have and gotten chewed out by Bobby for his trouble. “You’re not going to do anything _stupid_ tonight, are you?”

It tugs at his heart, the way Buck cares for him after everything that’s been thrown at them the past twelve months, and he casts a look over his shoulder as his fingers start slipping buttons through button-holes to change into his civvies.

“Christopher was kidnapped by my Abuela for the night. _I’ll_ be fine,” he insists, barely believing the words sliding off his tongue and, judging by Buck’s raised eyebrows, not sounding particularly convincing.

“Your kid won’t be home and somehow you think that’ll make me worry about you _less_?”

Eddie shrugs and peels the navy shirt off his shoulders, folding it over a coat-hanger and hooking it into his locker before retrieving the folded red Henley he’d worn to his shift off the shelf and shaking it out. “Buck, I’m a grown man. This might come as a surprise to you but I _can_ actually take care of myself.”

“Ha, ha.” Buck ignores the buttons on his shirt and just strips the fabric straight over his head, leaving Eddie with a rather dazzling display of the width of broad shoulders tapering to his narrower waist that makes him forget what they had been discussing. At least until Buck opens his mouth and reminds him. “You scared the shit out of me on that bodega call.”

“How do you think I felt when that white car didn’t seem to see you waving your arms like a lunatic?” he retorts and Buck, at least, has the ability to look sheepish when he glances at Eddie.

“I thought it would see the accident up ahead and slow down.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and returns to changing, attempting to focus on not falling over his feet when he swaps his navy slacks for jeans, attempting to ignore the shifting sound of fabric as Buck changes behind him, and attempting not to think about the dark feelings continuing to shift and twist through his veins and making it difficult to think straight. Maybe if he could just get to _one_ fight…?

“Hey.”

Buck’s voice nearly makes him jump out of his skin and it’s with several awkward blinks that he realises he’d finished dressing and then gotten distracted staring into his open locker and doing absolutely nothing except plot how to get to a fight.

He grabs his bag and turns, slamming the metal closed behind him and fixes Buck with one of his best patented ‘I’m okay’ smiles.

Buck’s staring at him with an inscrutable expression that still clearly conveys he knows Eddie’s attempted cover-up is utter bullshit.

“D’you want to come over?” Buck asks, his gaze flicking from Eddie’s eyes to a spot above his head and then an errant place on the wall before returning to Eddie again. “I mean- You don’t have Chris so I just figured…”

And Eddie…knows if he said no, after the day they’ve had, that Buck will be even more suspicious of how he’s doing. He honestly wouldn’t put it past Buck to attempt to tail him home, or wherever he decided to try to go, even though he’d know Buck’s car in his rearview mirror. Buck wouldn’t be put off by knowing Eddie knew he was being followed. He’d keep doing it. Eddie can imagine Buck calling Athena to get a cop to pull him over.

“If you’re sure…?” he says instead in an attempt to deflect, in the hopes maybe Buck will say no and grant Eddie the space to blow off steam in his own way.

Buck grasps his own bag from the bench between them and shuts his locker. “You look like you shouldn’t be alone tonight. C’mon.”

And Eddie’s…really not sure how he feels about being so transparent in front of Buck.

* * *

It starts with a beer, and then a pizza order, and then Buck challenging him to a round of Super Smash Bros. The single round turned into many and then they started betting on things for wins or losses. It meant Buck had to wash the trucks on his next shift and pay for breakfast or lunch the next time he hung out with Eddie and Christopher. Eddie had to sing at karaoke the next time Maddie or Hen organised it (which Eddie suspected was going to be sometime soon with the way Buck’s lips curled into a grin when he won that round).

“Okay, if I win this one, you have to take your shirt off.”

Eddie’s eyes slide towards Buck in stunned disbelief, fingers clenching around the controller a little too tightly. “How is _that_ in the same realm as what we’ve been betting?”

Buck shrugs, his thumb twitching against the joystick to make changes to his fighter. “I’m getting something I want. What’s your return bet, Diaz?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose and purses his lips, trying to look back at the screen and calculating the combination of strengths he needed to beat the modifications Buck’s making. He hesitates for a long moment because he knows Buck’s demand has probably been made in an effort to distract him and therefore lose, and then he’ll be shirtless and Buck would make some other demand and gradually Eddie would keep losing because he’ll be fixated on his empty chest and-

“Same bet,” he says eventually, fingers fiddling with the selections. “You can take your shirt off if I win.”

“That’s not very original.”

“You never said I had to be.”

Perhaps it’s Eddie’s imagination but they both play equally badly that round. In Eddie’s mind, it’s because he’s desperate to avoid losing so he doesn’t spiral into constant – shirtless – losses. When he chances quick looks at Buck and the way his pink tongue pokes past his lips, he thinks Buck seems as focused as ever but his game style just _sucks_.

“I win!” Buck crows and Eddie blinks, realising the huge _KO!_ is hovering above his character rather than Buck’s.

“That…” He licks his lips as nerves scurry up his throat. “Maybe we should make it best of three?”

Buck shakes his head, fixing Eddie with a pointed look. “If I have to clean the trucks, the _least_ you can do is take your shirt off.”

Eddie thinks that’s an incredibly unfair comparison but… He sighs, tugging at his Henley and peeling it over his head.

“Undershirt too,” Buck prompts and Eddie blinks at him.

“When the hell did this turn into some sort of strip poker?”

“Humour me.”

Eddie doesn’t feel like humouring Buck about anything when he’s starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable and wants to fold his arms over his chest. It’s not as though he’s ashamed of his body – he works out in the gym often enough between calls that there’s nothing to be ashamed of – but he’s faintly terrified of everything he already feels for Buck starting to be exposed. Maybe it’s printed somewhere on his chest, an indelible invisible tattoo that he can’t get rid of but that Buck will see anyway.

“Or I can help you get it off.”

Eddie blinks.

A lot.

His head swivels towards Buck like he’s some sort of owl.

He blinks some more.

Buck’s cheeks are dusted with pink, his blue eyes are sparkly, but he looks unfazed by the request that just about melts Eddie’s brain out of his ears.

He keeps watching Buck as his fingers catch at the bottom of his tank top and he pretends it’s just his imagination that Buck’s chest seems to rise and fall a little faster, or that his eyes seem a shade darker once he’s pulled the fabric over his head and discarded it on the coffee table.

“Happy now?” he says, even though he wants to reach for his shirt or a blanket and cover himself up.

Buck’s eyes skip over his torso and Eddie ignores the heat that prickles beneath his skin. “Yup.”

And Eddie…really doesn’t know what to do with that.

They return to the screen to choose new characters, make new fighter modifications, and Eddie tries to ignore how vulnerable he feels to be sitting beside Buck without his shirt on.

“If I win, you get rid of your shirt _and_ pants,” he says abruptly, hoping to scare the shit out of Buck which means he’ll lose and Eddie can keep his remaining clothes on.

Buck stutters beside him and Eddie bites his bottom lip to avoid a grin spreading across his face. It’s not until the screen is counting down to begin the fight that he realises Buck hasn’t made a counteroffer.

As soon as the counter hits _1_ , he hits the _pause_ button and looks towards Buck. “What’s the deal?”

Buck looks at him, a crease between his eyebrows and his cheeks definitely a darker pink now if Eddie is any sort of judge about it. “I-” His Adam’s apple bobs and Eddie thinks, _Excellent_. If Buck is like this now, then Eddie can’t possibly lose. “If- If I win, then you kiss me.”

“The- Wait- _What_?”

Buck’s lips spread into a delighted grin and Eddie is left feeling like a spluttering buffoon, which is sharply interrupted by Buck stabbing at the _pause_ button and beginning the fight.

“Hey!” he shouts but Buck just snorts, and Eddie has no idea whether he wants to win or lose this round and it’s killing his game more than he predicted the distraction of losing his shirt would be to his concentration. But the more he thinks about it, the more he becomes convinced that getting Buck out of several layers of clothes isn’t as good as getting the chance to kiss him. To pretend it’s part of losing the game and all in good fun, when in reality Eddie has been dying to kiss Buck since before Christmas, before the lawsuit and the tsunami and…probably around the time he realised Buck’s leg was thoroughly crushed but he had a girlfriend to nurse him through it and Eddie was just all useless hands and desperation to _help_ someone that he saw in a light that was distinctly more than mere friendship.

So if he just so _happens_ to lose the round, can he pretend that it’s disappointing and a shame even though he’s giving Buck what he wants – and simultaneously also what _Eddie_ wants?

He pouts anyway while Buck cheers the victory. “This should be a best of three,” he insists just to maintain some sort of semblance of dignity.

“You lost, fair and square,” Buck retorts, setting down his controller and turning towards Eddie expectantly. “It’s not even like this is for cash or it’s painful. Cleaning the trucks will take _hours_.”

There’s a flicker under Eddie’s skin at the idea of _pain_ and for a moment, he wonders if he can swap bets with Buck and he’ll take the truck cleaning back. Maybe the pain in his muscles from cleaning the truck will get rid of all the tension under his skin, the festering filth that bubbles and boils and threatens to spill over when he makes reckless decisions like searching the bodega a minute too long just to feel the adrenaline course through his veins and listen to Bobby’s scathing words.

He looks at Buck, who looks awfully contrite and incredibly pleased with himself. He wonders if this was all part of some master plan Buck has been setting up since…God knows when, honestly. They’ve been tiptoeing around _something_ for months, but Eddie’s been too afraid that Buck didn’t feel the same to do anything. He’d _almost_ thought there might have been a moment at Christmas when Buck had carried a bundle of mistletoe around the firehouse for a couple of hours, but Buck just kept bouncing around to everyone like an excited puppy that needed the affection. If he’d squinted, he could have imagined a fluffy tail wagging with delight every time Buck got close to someone who thanked him for the event.

And _then_ he thought there was sort of something at the New Year party that Bobby and Athena had held. Buck had trailed around after him for most of the night but when midnight struck, Buck had been across the room and staring at him with an odd look on his face. Eddie had felt like his breath got stuck in his lungs, wondering what he was meant to do, but neither of them had moved and the moment had passed and never been discussed again so he’d dismissed it as a figment of his imagination.

And so _this_ … This feels very deliberately set up.

Yet he’s still uncertain as all hell and any courage he had on the battlefield completely deserts him when he looks at Buck’s expression.

He swallows, shifts on the couch so he can lean into Buck and presses the swiftest kiss of his entire goddamn _life_ to Buck’s cheek before he sits again.

And panics.

Buck’s brow wrinkles, the confusion almost adorable as he stares at Eddie.

“You never said _where_ I had to kiss you,” Eddie points out and Buck’s eyes widen, and there’s a small tick in his jaw, and Eddie’s not sure he’s ever looked at Buck for so long and catalogued every minute change in his expression to determine that Buck seems…frustrated?

“Y’know, I don’t think that counts,” Buck says slowly, his blue eyes like the ocean on a stormy day.

Eddie’s eyebrow arches. “Oh?”

Buck nods. “Yeah. Too short. That’s like the sort of peck you give your grandmother when you’re trying to hide something.”

And Eddie…can’t really deny that observation and he wonders when Buck had seen him around his Abuela enough to notice and make his own catalogue.

“So what is it you’re actually after?” he says, the heartbeat he can feel in his throat skipping beats as Buck watches him for a minute, and then another.

“Come here and I’ll show you,” Buck offers and if Eddie doubted the way it felt like electricity was hissing around them before, it’s certainly starting to crackle now. Buck doesn’t look ashamed or perturbed or unwilling and Eddie just _wants_. Abandoning his misgivings has always been the hardest thing, his fear of screwing up one of the only things that has kept him grounded the last couple of years ensuring he has kept a resolute boundary between him and Buck. A boundary that was shattering apart beneath his feet.

He shifts closer on the couch and one of Buck’s hands clasps at his waist and it sparks against his flesh. He’d almost forgotten his lack of shirt but as Buck coaxes him closer, as the hand on his waist flexes and guides until a second hand is cradling his cheek, he soon finds himself hovering near Buck as his eyes carefully assess the dark blue pools in front of him.

“Evan?” he prompts hesitantly, one of his hands curling into Buck’s black t-shirt and that seems to be enough of a decision for the other man who tugs him closer and then his lips are against Buck’s and for a moment or ten, he forgets what it is to think.

When his brain sputters back to life, he attempts to catalogue how soft Buck’s lips are but how firm the pressure is against him. He tries to focus on the way his heart is struggling to find a rhythm and his stomach is flipping and flopping. He feels the way Buck’s hand flexes against his waist, the press of Buck’s thumb beneath his chin, and his head is spinning and spinning because this is…not just a kiss between friends, right?

He starts to press closer at the same time as Buck pushes him away and he wonders if Buck hears the way his heart pounds in his chest or can feel the thrumming pulse beneath his hands. He feels dazed when he eventually gets his eyes open but it’s satisfying that Buck looks equally spaced if the distance in his eyes is anything to go by.

“Sorry if that was- uh- too forward and you didn’t-”

He silences whatever parts of Buck’s apology are that he doesn’t want to hear by kissing Buck again, using whatever momentum he has that allows him to press into Buck’s bubble and shatter it. Buck’s hands squeeze against him when he moves to straddle Buck’s thighs but if he’s going to kiss Buck, if he’s _really_ allowed to be doing this right now, he’s going to make the most of it.

He shudders when Buck’s hand at his waist shifts to the small of his back, nails scraping at muscles, and Eddie cradles Buck’s head to tilt it back, to open the hinge of his jaw and lick into his mouth and soak up the groan that Buck blesses him with. All these months of dancing around each other and all these months of Eddie wondering and wanting Buck’s mouth on his pour into the kiss, his weight settling across Buck’s legs and knees digging into the couch cushions beside them.

“Eddie…” Buck whispers between kisses and there’s something so incredulous in his tone that Eddie wonders who the blinder fool between them has been for who knows how long. He forces himself to slow the kisses to a stop, skimming a hand through Buck’s hair and kissing the edge of Buck’s lips just because he can, before he loses his cool and his confidence and harshly returns to Earth and reality where the ‘kiss’ had just been for a bet and not because _this_ was meant to happen and his whole heart was meant to be unwrapped and available for Buck to break.

When he finally manages to stop kissing Buck, he becomes aware of just how much his skin is tingling and prickling wherever Buck’s hand keeps wandering and it’s better than the itchy discomfort he’s had for weeks while he’s fought the urge to fight someone else.

“Are you okay?” he says instead, tracing a finger over the curve of Buck’s eyebrow and the strawberry-coloured circle of his birthmark in the corner of his eye.

Buck hums, his cheeks flushed and his mouth kiss-swollen and distracting Eddie so much he almost decides _to hell with it_ so he can kiss Buck again. But this is different. It’s new and it’s strange and it’s something Eddie feels they _have_ to talk about but he’s equally terrified to do so. He can’t lose his best friend because of a lapse in judgement.

“I’m good,” Buck says, a contented smile and glimmer in his eyes when Eddie really looks at him which is more reassuring than he could have hoped. “How are you feeling?”

And Eddie…feels pretty good that he got to kiss Buck, despite all the worries that still swirl through him about the fragility of their friendship and that ever-present unease of wanting to fight but knowing he couldn’t.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he admits cautiously, unused to delving too deeply into the feelings he usually guards so fiercely.

Buck’s hands squeeze him, his head shaking as he watches Eddie. “You aren’t gonna lose me, Eds,” Buck says with a kiss to Eddie’s shoulder that sends a shivery chill down his spine.

“But-”

“No,” Buck insists, a furrowed brow above determined eyes that broker no opportunity to argue. “I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine. No matter what.”

His heart still pounds misshapen indents against his ribcage and his breath still swirls in his lungs as he wars between what he’s wanted for months and what he’s been so afraid of losing. Eddie wasn’t known to be particularly indecisive but in this case-

“What do you want?” Buck says, interrupting his anxious spiral with a gentle press of fingers along Eddie’s spine like he can see all the fragments that Eddie is trying to hide. “What did you want this afternoon when you seemed so tense getting changed?”

He bites his lip, acutely aware now of the compromising position he’s in. Straddling Buck wasn’t so bad when they were kissing but now it just feels…like Buck’s hands are everywhere, like his heat is seeping past Eddie’s defences and defrosting his shields, like even if he wanted to put distance between them he wouldn’t be able to because Buck would just tighten his grip and keep him still.

“I…thought about fighting,” he admits, because he’d hated lying to Buck before and he didn’t want to start again now. His eyes wander above Buck’s head, staring at a spot on the wall as some of the truth finally spills out of him. “When Bobby found out, he…he said it was probably about control and I- The calls we had today just left me so shaky, like I- I needed to lose control and fighting… Fighting helps slow everything down for a while. It helps me focus when everything feels too fast in my head. Does that…make sense?”

Buck nods, fingers continuing to press up the curl of Eddie’s spine and drawing Eddie’s gaze away from the shadows on the wall. “What if there was something else you could do to slow everything down?”

Eddie hesitates, heat gathering in his stomach at the intensity within Buck’s eyes. If there’s something other than fighting, if there’s something other than nearly killing or being killed, or the bruises and the shame and the guilt when he lets his family and the firehouse down… If there is anything else, he’ll take it.

“I trust you,” he murmurs because it’s the truth, because he doesn’t trust anyone as much as he trusts Buck.

He throws his caution to the wind to kiss Buck with a softness that hadn’t been there before but nevertheless makes his belly quiver with anticipation when Buck returns the kiss, the almost feverish groping before turning gentle.

Buck’s hands eventually manoeuvre him into standing but he grasps at Buck’s hands to help him to his feet, finding the minor height difference strange when he looks up at Buck. The last time he kissed someone taller than him, he was probably in high school and hadn’t had a growth spurt yet.

“Are you sure?” Buck says, trailing fingertips up Eddie’s arms and making goosebumps erupt in their wake.

He meets Buck’s eyes and they’ve changed to the colour of the ocean in the early morning light – a clear, sweet blue that he could very easily lose himself in.

“I’ll do anything if it means not fighting,” he replies and it’s laced with more confidence than he feels but…he wants, he _wants_ , and he’ll take whatever Buck gives. He knows that much.

Buck nods and twists one set of fingers through Eddie’s. “Follow me.”

There’s an increasing buzz in his brain as he trails after Buck, but they only get three steps towards the loft when he pushes Buck against the wall to kiss him. He thinks Buck huffs a small laugh, breath skittering over Eddie’s mouth and chin, when Eddie tugs at his t-shirt to get it over his head. He’s greeted by more dark tattoo lines on the inside of Buck’s left shoulder and over his right pectoral, and the abstract outline of a face on his stomach, and he just wants to touch and trace every line with his hands and his tongue. He’s seen them so many times when Buck has gotten changed and had to hold himself back from reaching towards the other man to explore them, to ask what they mean and when he got them and where he got them. Now... Now he has no such misgivings.

“C’mon,” Buck mumbles, interrupting Eddie’s examination of the outlines with his fingertips by pulling more insistently at his hand until they’re stumbling up the remaining stairs. Eddie can’t help admiring the shift of Buck’s muscles beneath pale skin, the cinch of his leather belt that still means his pants hang low on his hips.

He wants to touch _everything_ when they finally get upstairs but Buck shakes his head, a small smile curving his lips as he appraises Eddie’s flitting eyes and fidgeting hands. And Eddie hasn’t felt so small under such a look for a long time because he’s a bundle of restless energy that needs to be directed somewhere.

“Lie down,” Buck requests and Eddie blinks, a sudden burst of...not _shyness_ , exactly, but something that fills him with nerves and uncertainty. He knows orders, he understands following them, but this- “Hey. You okay?”

He blinks, runs his bottom lip through his teeth, and nods slowly. He’s okay. He just needs a minute. “Just… Talk me through this?”

There’s a flicker in Buck’s eyes that almost looks like understanding before he draws Eddie into a hug, and the press of his broad shoulders and the way his hands are large against Eddie’s narrower frame makes him feel safe and protected, which is a feeling he’s desperately unfamiliar with but would gladly hold onto for a whole lot longer than whatever Buck’s offering.

“This is about helping you slow your thinking,” Buck explains, brushing fingers through Eddie’s short hair and massaging the hand down the back of his neck. “Do _you_ need to have the control or do you want _me_ to have it?”

He pauses for a moment as Buck’s fingers rub circles into his neck, weighing his options and what he wants since he knows Buck won’t let him hit someone. But the reality is, he doesn’t really want to lash out. He doesn’t really want to hurt anyone. He never wanted to hurt anyone. He just needed to feel the pain and surrender for a while to something that was all instinct so he didn’t have to think about everything that swam through his head and-

“You,” he realises, the answer as obvious as the nose on his face, and Buck kisses the top of his head. It reminds him of how often Buck cradles Christopher’s neck and kisses his hair, and the affection makes him feel warmer than he’d expected.

“Will you lie down for me?” Buck says and he nods, any trepidation fading as Buck releases him so he can sink backwards onto the bed. As he settles against the mattress, he allows himself the small – or large – pleasure of watching Buck watch him, aware of how the muscles in his torso would have shifted under Buck’s gaze. But now that he’s lying down, he has an excellent view of Buck standing by the bed and his eyes roam down Buck’s chest and Buck undeniably preens, striking a pose like a Greek or Roman statue and making Eddie snort.

“You’re ridiculous,” he says with a bit of a laugh as Buck grins, puffing out his chest and flexing muscles in his arms this way and that.

“You love it,” Buck says automatically, fluttering his eyelashes like an absolute idiot, and Eddie doesn’t make a move to correct him. It doesn’t feel necessary. Not when they’re like this. Not when his whole body is thrumming and it’s undeniable that he’s in this, and he’s open to this, even though he has no idea what _this_ is.

Buck turns towards his drawers by the wall, opening the third and withdrawing a strip of black glossy fabric that contrasts so nicely with his skin. Eddie swallows, incredibly conscious of the renewed pounding of his heart in his chest.

“This okay?” Buck asks and Eddie nods, watching as Buck withdraws a second strip. It makes his breathing somewhat irregular as he starts to think about all the many things he doesn’t know about this side of Buck – but all the things he now _wants_ to learn, if given the opportunity.

Buck sits on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric between his fingers and attracting Eddie’s entire attention to the way it ripples across calloused knuckles he knows almost as well as his own. “I can control what you see, or what you can touch, or I can do both. What are you comfortable with?”

And this is... Oh. _Oh_. This isn’t something he’s ever done before, not really, but he’s not naive. He knows what Buck’s doing, and what he’s offering, and it’s...also not something he saw himself giving into doing – he always figured he’d be the one leading, if he were truly honest – but right now... Right now, he trusts Buck. Completely. And the opportunity to stop thinking for a while because Buck does…whatever he wants to do is _so_ tempting. With anyone else, he’d think going from a first kiss to this in the span of fifteen minutes would be too much, too fast, too scary, but with Buck... Not with Buck. Not when he suspects this thing between them was ignited long ago and it’s finally erupted into proper flames that he’s completely willing to make himself into a sacrifice to properly experience.

“Both,” he whispers, meeting Buck’s eyes steadily. If Buck expected him to be afraid or uncertain, he’s not. He won’t be. He _can’t_ be, not when Buck’s looking at him like he is.

Buck’s eyes are almost as dark as the fabric as he clambers onto the bed and hovers above Eddie’s body. Eddie tries to commit the sight of Buck’s muscles to memory, the depth behind his fathomless eyes, before Buck raises his head off the pillow and winds the silky black fabric around his head, covering his eyes, and it’s incredibly unnerving for a long few heartbeats as he tries to shift his focus to his other senses.

“I’m still here,” Buck murmurs and the sound of his voice is enough to help settle the flurry of nerves at the darkness. “If you don’t like it, if you want to stop, just say so, okay? This doesn’t work if you start freaking out.”

“I’m not-“ he starts, stops, scrunches his eyebrows behind the blindfold and decides that’s not what he wants to say because Buck would’ve seen the way his muscles tensed. _Buck knows him too well_ , his brain warns. “How do you know what to do?” he says instead.

Buck emits a quiet laugh, his fingers dragging over Eddie’s shoulders like pitter-pattering raindrops that are there and then gone. “You’re not the only one who needs their overactive brain to shut up occasionally.”

He bites the edge of his lip at the thought that Buck has gone through this. That someone has _done_ this to Buck makes something inexplicable flare in his chest and curl his hands by his sides. It’s not something he thinks he likes, so he returns his attention to Buck and he finds it easier to breathe as he gets used to the darkness and adjusts to Buck’s heaviness against him. Being pressed into the mattress stops his thoughts from flying his focus away. Being unable to see Buck’s wandering hands but wondering where they’ll go next makes it easier to ignore all the itchiness that threatened to consume him when he usually laid awake at night, alone in his bed, and tried not to yell into his pillow with how badly he needed to release all the tension that was boiling inside him.

“Does it happen often?” he says as Buck’s fingers tiptoe down his arm, circling his wrist as a thumb rubs the inside veins and joints.

“That I need this?”

He nods, an aborted breath shuddering back out of his lungs when silk binds around his wrist. He lets Buck raise his arm above his head, losing the threads of his thoughts already.

“Not as much. Once I realised caring for someone else, helping _them_ , was just as…helpful, I started being more flexible in what I did or didn’t do.” Buck’s hand closes around Eddie’s other wrist, gently lifting it above his head to join his other.

“Are you- I- I mean- I didn’t expect you to...to be into this...” He’s not sure exactly what he’s saying because the silk is wrapping around his other wrist, limiting his range of movement to reach out and touch and grab at whatever part of Buck that he can find and maybe he should’ve thought this through because now he can’t feel Buck’s muscles beneath his palms and the expansion and contraction of his lungs when he’s getting strung out.

“Kink or guys?” Buck muses and Eddie shrugs, just as uncertain about what he’d been trying to ask. “I’m... I like finding ways to make intimacy interesting, and learning that it doesn’t always have to lead to sex was good for me.”

It’s a perspective from Buck he hadn’t expected, and he realises he’s not sure what he expects this to turn into because maybe it’s _not_ going to be about sex. But – he also realises – he doesn’t think he cares what it becomes. He’s okay with that too. He’s not opposed to sex. He’s _definitely_ not opposed to Buck. Because as he told Buck, he trusts the guy. He’s followed him into more hair-raising scenarios than Eddie currently cares to think about, so this? He can handle this. He knows he’s safe and will be taken care of because Buck knows him so well and has a great sense for when he gets uncomfortable about a decision on a call, so Buck will know if he gets uncomfortable – probably before Eddie even realises.

“And guys?” he says when Buck’s evidently satisfied with the knot at his wrists, pinching several of his fingers and pressing at spots on his arms. Checking for circulation? Eddie’s not sure.

“I’m not gonna turn down a hot guy,” Buck says like it’s obvious even though his voice quietens. “My first kiss was with a guy, actually. I was fourteen and he was my best friend at the time.”

Eddie’s heart does a strange jolt in his chest and he tilts his head, following where he expects Buck’s head to be as the other man talks.

“He wasn’t gay and he freaked out. I…didn’t know what I was or how I felt but I knew I was okay with kissing him, just like I was okay with kissing a girl when I was fifteen.” Fingers like feathers trail down the exposed underside of Eddie’s arms and he squirms a little at how much it tickles. “As I got older, it was easier to just keep being with girls. That’s all the 118 ever saw when I started. But when I was in South America, there were a lot of men and I grew more comfortable in exploring that side of myself so that by the time I set myself up in LA, I went wherever the wind took me.”

“I…didn’t know that,” he says, wondering if he should have picked up on something earlier, if he should’ve said something earlier. He could trace how long he’d been eyeing Buck but how long might Buck have been eyeing him? He’d love to ask but he’s too terrified of the answer.

“It meant I was reckless with my feelings and who I was with. You don’t want to know that part of me,” Buck says and even though Eddie wants to challenge him on it, he knows Buck won’t listen to the argument. He also knows it probably strays too close to opening up the conversation about Abby and he knows that’s still a sore spot for Buck and he absolutely doesn’t want to kill the mood. “What about you?”

The question draws him out of his thoughts. “Me?”

“Guys. Or kink. I thought when I said you should kiss me, you’d flip out and hit me or leave the apartment and change stations or something.”

He’s glad for the blindfold because it means he doesn’t have to hide his wavering eyes from Buck’s and the fabric covers some of his cheeks so perhaps some of his flush is hidden too.

“I’ve…never really done this before?” he says and then realises how unsure he sounds, shakes his head and tries again. “I mean, I- I’ve kissed guys. I was…curious as a teenager and then my first couple of years in the army, even during Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, you’d still find people who were away from home and just… You needed someone, you know?”

He can’t tell whether Buck nods or what his face looks like but Buck’s hands stay against him and that alone is comforting and reassuring.

“Once I met Shannon, I had to…to stop that. I didn’t want to cheat on her, and then we had Christopher. So it- I know it’s been a while but I’m not gonna flip out on _you_ , Evan. I’d never do that.”

“That’s good to know,” Buck murmurs, shifting his weight and then his lips are on Eddie’s again and he sinks into the mattress under the insistent pressure and the slow rearrangement of Buck’s limbs around him, against him. He thinks Buck’s sort of more laying beside him now, his weight still against Eddie’s right hip to keep him settled, but it frees up Buck’s hand to travel over his chest and he shivers at the thumb circling a nipple, the scrape of a nail into the groove of one of his abs.

And it’s… It takes him a little while to realise Buck was right, that handing over the need to control is actually okay and does help gradually lower the volume of the noise in his head. He unwinds slowly with Buck’s touches because this isn’t something he’s familiar with, but he’s glad when the itch to fight and destroy fades. When Buck’s hand is replaced by his mouth, he trembles with anticipation and unashamedly whimpers when lips find sensitive spots of flesh all over him which is almost certainly sending plenty of blood south. It’s the only explanation he has for the light-headedness that makes him dizzy even though he’s mostly still against the bed because of Buck against his legs.

“Do you want me to take these off?” Buck’s words tickle over his bellybutton, fingers toying with the hem of his jeans, and Eddie nods haphazardly because even if there was some section of the universe where he had a doubt that he wasn’t okay with this, he really thinks he needs the constricting fabric _gone_ before it gets more painful.

Like almost everything, Buck takes his time removing the somewhat scratchy fabric and follows the slow drag of the denim with kisses and nips at the newly exposed flesh and Eddie is pretty sure he’s never been this hard in his entire fucking _life_. Buck hasn’t even come close to touching his dick but Eddie knows his whole body has to be flushed with heat and he can feel the speckle of sweat on his brow and shoulders already.

He helps Buck as much as he can by shifting his feet to finally kick the fabric away and his hands curl together into almost painful fists when Buck’s mouth fixes against his inner thigh, drawing a moan past his lips as he widens his legs, increasingly shameless about exposing what he wants and needs. Buck had mentioned intimacy that didn’t need to lead to sex but surely…?

“What do you want, Eddie?” Buck says and Eddie’s aware that the man is settled somewhere between his legs and can’t possibly be blind to what’s right in front of him unless he’s somehow blindfolded too. He shifts his arms to his stomach and searches until he grasps at a small section of Buck’s hair with the barest curl of his fingers.

“Anything, Ev,” he says, breath stuttering because his heart was beating so erratically in his chest as he let himself give in and give up and wasn’t that what this was all about? “Soy tuyo para hacer lo que quieras. Please…”

“I…don’t know what you just said but it sounded hot,” Buck mumbles against his leg and Eddie manages a laugh and does his best to scratch Buck’s head.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” he loosely translates, because he’s not sure he could expose his heart like that just yet, but Buck hums, fingers hooking into the elastic of his briefs and Eddie raises his hips to help Buck discard them.

It’s honestly a wonder he doesn’t fall off the edge of his climax as soon as he feels Buck’s lips against the head of his cock, hips jerking a little in surprise and a string of filthy Spanish fleeing his brain before he can stop it. There’s no sort of rhythm to whatever Buck’s doing which is both fantastic and fucking awful because every time Eddie starts to feel like he might come, Buck’s pace changes and Eddie shudders back away from the heat.

“I need- Evan, I- I’m-”

“I know,” Buck says, hand squeezing his leg and thumb over a particularly sensitive spot that makes Eddie’s dick twitch. “Let go, Eds. I’ll catch you.”

And he whines because he abandoned any sort of semblance of sanity a while ago when he probably first agreed to take his shirt off, or maybe when he kissed Buck, but almost certainly when he agreed to be blindfolded, and it all fades away behind a wall of staticky white noise that includes the swelling thump of his heartbeat in his ears as heat envelopes his cock thanks to Buck’s mouth that he has been distracted by on more than one occasion at the firehouse. But there’s a rhythm this time, and it’s steady and it’s fast enough to coil heat at the base of his spine and some of his limbs twist against the bed, resisting the weight of Buck against him because his muscles have a life of their own.

“F-Fuck, I- I’m- _Mierda_ , Evan- I-” His words are increasingly incomprehensible whimpers as the whole world around him stops on the edge of a precipice, the crushing feeling of senselessness surrounding him and scaring him for a heartbeat or two, and then in the next breath he’s shattering apart with a weak cry and a series of stuttered hip movements.

Somewhere amidst all the tingling and buzzing and gentle heat swaddling him, he can feel Buck’s mouth against his hip, and then the curve of his ribcage, and sternum, and collarbone, and hollow of his throat, and he’s all too willing to sink into the kiss as Buck’s hand skims down his slick chest and hovers over his racing heart.

“So good…” he whispers between the kisses and he can feel Buck’s lips curve into a smile against his and senses Buck was probably filled with his own nervous energy.

“Yeah?” Buck pulls away, the tip of his nose skimming along the stubble on Eddie’s jaw as he places kisses near Eddie’s ear. “You’re okay?”

He nods, his muscles feeling looser than they have in weeks – maybe _months_ – and every nerve-ending feeling thoroughly zapped like he’s just held onto an overhead wire. This was…definitely better than anything he felt after a fight. He could very easily see it becoming a new thing to become addicted to, a new way to chase an adrenaline high.

“If you could have seen yourself… _God_ , Eddie,” Buck breathes and there’s a small twinge of self-consciousness before Buck kisses it away, shifting his weight again and then Eddie becomes alert to-

“You’re hard,” he says, nipping at Buck’s lower lip and making the younger man’s breathing hitch.

“It’s okay, I-”

“No. I- What do you want me to do?” He won’t take no for an answer. Not about this. Not when his whole body still feels like his bones have been replaced by superheated, electrified honey and he owes Buck this.

“Stay there.” Buck’s weight disappears for a moment and Eddie turns his head, listening to the clink of the leather belt buck and the slide of a zip and the rustle of fabric, feeling the shudder in the bed as Buck moves and sensing that he’s close and then- _oh_. He moans before he can stop himself, long-forgotten desires erupting as the soft skin but heavy weight of Buck’s cock slips past his opening lips. “Oh f-fuck… _Eddie_ …”

He has no idea what he’s doing, not really, not when it’s been so long, and especially not when he can’t see or reach out to touch and grasp, and definitely not when he feels like he couldn’t really move even if he wanted to, but Buck seems to take that all into account as he keeps his movements shallow but carefully regular, a hand tugging at Eddie’s hair to tilt his head further back, sliding to his jaw and throat to hold him steady as another groan of absolute desperation, desire, _want_ escapes him because he hadn’t expected to like a hand on his neck but now that it’s there, he wants it to squeeze a little.

“Good, so good. You’re doing s-so good, Eddie…” Buck almost breathlessly chants, hand flexing against his throat like he knows that’s what Eddie had been craving and making Eddie think he’ll get hard again before this is over, making him think he’ll happily give in to Buck rolling him over and spreading him wide if that’s what’s next because if this is what sex can be like with Buck… Fuck, he’s not sure how he’s ever meant to go to work again and look his best friend and partner in the eye if this is a one-time thing.

Buck’s spare hand grips at his wrists above Eddie’s head and he’s so stretched out, so utterly powerless, and it’s not something he thought he’d enjoy as a veteran that needed to be alert all the time but he can feel himself sinking into it, feel himself surrendering deeper and deeper into the control that Eddie had allowed Buck to take, letting Buck use him how he needs and shivering under the litany of Buck’s praise, moaning whenever Buck’s hand at his throat clenches and probably betraying to Buck just how much he loves it but he doesn’t even care anymore. Nothing else matters than the man above him that he can’t see but can absolutely feel and hear and smell and taste.

“Y-You- D’you want me t-to-?”

He nods without thinking, wanting to please and wanting to receive and feeling an ache in his jaw that is unfamiliar but also welcome and he can feel that he’s hard again, can feel his hips writhing a little beneath Buck’s weight because he _needs_.

“G-God, so good. L-Look at you, fuck. All s-strung out and t-taking it without question. F-Fuck, Eddie, you’re so f-fucking good at this. I- I’m- O-Oh f-fuck…”

Eddie almost wishes he could smile when he realises he has the power to turn Buck into someone that spews just as many filthy pleas as he probably did earlier. He whimpers, somewhat with happiness at the commentary and somewhat with just how much he needs Buck to continue using him, but Buck’s words get strangled with a gasp and then there’s a rush of salty heated liquid hitting his mouth, the back of his throat, and it’s a _lot_ , more than he expected, more than he’s had to deal with in a long, _long_ time but Buck is there, raising his head and helping him swallow when he starts to feel like he’s choking or drowning and moments before he starts to panic because he feels overwhelmed that he can’t see.

“There you go, you’re okay,” Buck is murmuring, his fingers rubbing at the back of Eddie’s neck as he starts to focus again on the warmth that feels like it’s on his cheek, and across his chin, and down his throat. “Fuck, so pretty,” Buck whispers, thumb catching at some of the warmth and pressing it past Eddie’s lips which he is all too happy to suck off – much to Buck’s pleased groan.

There are a few pulls and then he can see again, blinking against the harsh invasion of light that makes everything seem out of focus for a moment but grateful as well to see Buck’s incredibly flushed face swimming into singularity above him. He can’t help but look as Buck moves and Eddie observes the way the pink in Buck’s cheek is also speckled down his chest and the way his dark pants are stuck at his light thighs and exposing probably just how desperate Buck had gotten when he couldn’t even be bothered ridding his clothes from his body.

“Hey,” Buck says with a bright smile that feels like he’s been kissed by the sun, before Buck leans in to kiss him with a ferocity that takes Eddie’s breath away again. Buck’s hand skims down Eddie’s chest to curl around where his cock is absolutely hard and leaking against his belly again. Eddie’s whole spine arches into it and Buck’s laugh skates over his flushed mouth. “You’re like a teenager with that recovery time.”

“Y-You were… It’s b-been a while since I was with anyone,” he mutters in the weakest sort of protest he can be bothered trying to muster, hips rolling into Buck’s hand regardless of any sort of conscious thought.

“Mmm… And I was?” Buck says, thumb circling the head and making Eddie’s eyes flutter even though he’s trying very hard to stay focused on keeping his eyes open to gaze at Buck’s very lovely face so close to his.

He shakes his head, refusing to vocalise any of the thoughts he has for fear they’ll be turned and used against him when Buck gets a brilliant idea to grin and tease him at the station with some sort of joke he will absolutely understand that will definitely leave everyone else confused. Buck’s eyebrows rise and he shifts to straddle Eddie’s legs, hand still attached to his cock and moving slow enough to drive Eddie up the wall.

“What? You’re shy _now_?” Buck says, and there’s something in the glint of his eyes that Eddie’s not sure he likes. Buck’s spare hand presses against his chest, feeling the racing beat against his palm. “Is that just because you can see me now or something I’m going to have to get used to?”

“I…don’t know,” Eddie admits, because yeah, not being able to see Buck’s face made it easier to just give in and let go but at the same time, he also missed seeing so much of what was going on that he sort of feels sad he missed it. The sounds Buck had made while sinking into Eddie’s mouth… The echoes of it ricochet through Eddie’s memory and his breath hitches, which catches Buck’s attention.

“ _What_?” Buck insists, the hand on Eddie’s chest sliding upwards to circle the base of his throat and okay… Buck definitely realised he has a thing for that and the glint in his blue eyes shines brighter because he almost certainly sees how Eddie’s eyes glaze for a moment when Buck’s thumb and index finger apply pressure to the sides of his neck.

“You sounded hot,” he says around half a breath, shuddering at the way Buck eases the pressure against his neck which is a good thing and a bad thing and either way is making his head spin. “When you- F- _Fuck_ \- When you were talking, I- It w-was hot.”

“Yeah? You should hear yourself speak Spanish,” Buck grumbles, his cheeks almost certainly darkening as he avoids eye-contact and twists his wrist again, making more sparks spill to the ends of Eddie’s fingers and toes. “You looked so good beneath me, I couldn’t help it.”

The pressure at his throat returns and Buck pushes his chin back a little, like he’s performing some sort of perverse head-tilt for CPR. Eddie sees black spots and white stars as he jerks his hips with Buck’s twisting hand, the few desperate grabs at oxygen as he crests the wave made harder when Buck’s restricting his breathing. But it’s good. It’s _so good_ , and when he unravels a second time, he feels as though there’s a brief period of utter blackness where he forgets everything because when he starts to feel the pieces of himself slot back together again, Buck is curled into his side and his hands are free and Buck’s fingers are at his chin and the side of his head, thumb smoothing along his jaw and his belly is clean and he doesn’t remember any of it happening.

His limbs feel leaden but he raises a hand to drape loose fingers against Buck’s arm, tilting his head and finding Buck’s lips in a lazy sort of kiss where Buck did most of the work.

“I… I’ve never done anything like that,” he says when Buck nuzzles at his jaw, settling next to him as they just breathe each other in for several very long minutes.

“Yeah, I- I’ve never- It’s never been that intense before,” Buck says with a small kiss to the shell of Eddie’s ear. “Are you okay?”

He nods, stretching out some of the kinks in his muscles and continuing to drag his hand as best as he could over Buck’s bicep. “I feel fantastic, honestly.”

Buck gives some sort of semi-breathless giggle. “So that was better than fighting?”

“ _So_ much better than fighting,” he agrees, nudging a lopsided kiss to Buck’s cheek. The itch he’d had was gone, replaced with a serene contentment that made him feel as though he were glowing all over, like maybe Buck’s sunshine has infiltrated his own pores.

“Good.” There’s a gentle increase in pressure from Buck’s hand against the side of his face. “If you ever want to fight again, just…remember there’s another alternative.”

He bites his bottom lip, presses his lips together from one side to the other while focusing on a spot on the ceiling as he battles again with what he wants to say and what he’s terrified to admit out loud. But after this, when he’s got Buck pressed against his naked body, he’s not sure why he remains so scared. “What if I…don’t want to fight but want to do it again anyway?”

Buck hums, wriggling closer and tightening his grip and simultaneously extinguishing any fears Eddie might’ve started to feel creeping in on him again. “That can also be arranged.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Buck mumbles, a yawned breath tickling over Eddie’s skin. “I am more than happy for this to be more than a one-time thing, if that’s alright with you.”

Eddie tilts his head further and Buck gets the hint, lifting his head enough off the pillow to kiss him slow and deep and filled with a type of heat that spreads throughout Eddie’s entire body and makes him feel like he _is_ the sun. “That’s alright with me,” he says, lightly squeezing at Buck’s arm.

The younger man cuddles back into his side and Eddie does his best to wrap an arm around his shoulders, holding Buck even though he’s taller and broader and heavier. Even though every part of Eddie feels like it can’t possibly cooperate into moving, holding Buck seems to be something he can and wants to achieve because he needs to keep Buck close.

The challenge, of course, will be letting go at some point in the future to shower, or eat, or collect Chris from his Abuela’s in the morning.

For now, though, he’s perfectly content to focus on holding on to the one thing he’s dreamed about for months. A small smile quirks the edge of his lips as Buck exhales and nuzzles against him and he knows there’s no where else he’d rather be.

* * *

_**~FIN~** _


End file.
